Zoe Ashdown and the Impossible Task
by WhoIsTheDoctor
Summary: Zoe Ashdown, sixth year Slytherin, has never been an outspoken person. Quiet and timid, many students have never heard her speak, or heard of her at all. Contracted against her will to join the infamous Death Eaters and given a seemingly impossible task, she'll be glad to reach June alive.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, everyone! I've started rereading the Harry Potter series, and this fic inserted itself so firmly into my head that I just had to write it down. Zoe is actually a character I know very well; I'm very excited to finally share her! This is mostly her story, starting at the beginning of the gang's sixth year. Enjoy!**

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For Harry, the inaugural Slug Club meeting on the train to Hogwarts was a waste of time. Not only did he have to listen to Slughorn try to suck up to the students that were well-connected, he also had to endure another round of questions about the previous year. It didn't help, either, that Blaise Zabini threw Harry a dirty look every time the title 'The Chosen One' was brought up. Harry was more than glad, then, when Slughorn dismissed the students. Walking back with Neville and Ginny, Harry spotted Zabini going back into his compartment. This would be a perfect time to see what Malfoy was up to. Throwing on his Invisibility Cloak, he told Neville and Ginny not to wait up, and caught up to Zabini as he shut the sliding glass door to the compartment. Harry threw his foot into the gap, gritting his teeth to stop himself from crying out as the door slammed into his foot. Zabini attempted to shut the door again, but Harry grabbed it and wrenched it open, throwing Zabini into Crabbe and Goyle. In the resulting commotion, Harry climbed onto Zabini's open seat and leapt onto the luggage rack. For one horrible moment, Harry thought his trainer caught the eye of a dark-haired girl he didn't recognize, but then her attention turned to Malfoy, who had practically climbed into her lap to avoid being hit by Zabini, who overbalanced as he stood and nearly fell back into the seat Malfoy just vacated.

Steadying himself, Zabini shut the door, and sat at the window seat across from the dark-haired girl. Pansy Parkinson threw the girl a nasty look and clamped onto Malfoy's arm, pulling him over to her, where she rested her head on his shoulder and smirked triumphantly at everyone in the compartment. Talk turned to the Slug Club meeting, where Malfoy's initial surprise at not being invited was chalked up to his father's arrest earlier in the year. "I've got better things to do, anyway," he muttered. "But why wasn't Zoe invited? Her marks rival that Mudblood Granger's, and I heard Slughorn liked her father when he was in school."

"Her?" Pansy shrieked, laughing contemptuously at the girl by the window, fixing her with a taunting stare. "Why should he? He could talk to the door handle and get the same result." And indeed, Zoe stared out the window as though she hadn't heard a thing. "Inviting her anywhere is a waste of time," Pansy continued, a petulant whine sneaking into her tone, "Draco, why did you have to invite her?"

"Because I want her here," the blonde answered simply, looking over at Zoe as though to make sure she was still there. Pansy huffed and didn't push the topic, but she did continue to periodically throw smarmy looks in the other girl's direction. Conversation then led to Malfoy dropping hints about his plans for the coming year and after, some of which tore Zoe's gaze from the window to give Malfoy a warning look. Malfoy continued on, ignoring her disapproving stare completely.

"- I mean, think about it. ... When the Dark Lord takes over, is he going to care how many O.W.L.s or N.E.W.T.s anyone's got? Of course he isn't. ... It'll be all about the kind of service he received, the level of devotion he was shown."

Zabini clearly thought little of Malfoy's zealousness, considering he wasn't yet a fully qualified wizard. Malfoy brushed off his doubts with a reiteration. "I just said, haven't I? Maybe he doesn't care if I'm qualified. Maybe the job he wants me to do is-"

Zoe spoke for the first time, her voice quiet but firm. "Draco, don't."

Pansy's shrill voice seemed to stab Harry in the ears as she shrieked, "Don't you dare tell him what to do, Ashdown! It's alright, Draco, you can tell us..."

But Malfoy wouldn't say another word about it, clearly relishing the effect his hints had on the other Slytherins. "I can see Hogwarts. We'd better get our robes on."

Harry was so busy staring at Malfoy, he didn't notice Goyle reaching up for his trunk; as he swung it down, it hit Harry hard on the side of his head. He let out an involuntary gasp of pain, and Malfoy and Ashdown both looked up at the luggage rack; Malfoy frowning, Ashdown studying the spot where Harry lay. Unafraid of Malfoy though he was, he grasped his wand in case Zoe turned out to be a liberal caster of hexes. To his great relief, however, both Slytherins looked away and continued to pull on their robes.

The train slowed and came to a jerky stop, and Harry could see the corridor filling up with students eager to leave and head up to the Great Hall for the Sorting Ceremony and the start of term feast. Crabbe and Goyle exited the compartment first, punching younger students out of the way, followed by Zabini. Pansy left next, holding out her hand as though she expected Malfoy to hold it, but he waved her away. "You go on. I want to talk to Zoe for a minute." At this, Pansy looked as though she'd swallowed a lemon, but she nodded and left, leaving Malfoy and Ashdown alone. Malfoy turned to Zoe, and it was with a curious expression on his face-was that remorse?-that he began to speak. "Zoe, I-"

But Ashdown cut him off, crossing the compartment and locking the door as she lowered the blinds. No one would be able to see inside. Harry quickly became uncomfortable as she raised a finger to her lips and gently placed a hand on Malfoy's shoulder. What was she d-

_"Petrificus totalus!"_ the girl cried, pulling Malfoy out of the way as Harry came crashing down to the floor, his Invisibility Cloak trapped underneath him. Ashdown's wand remained pointed on him for a moment until she was sure he wasn't about to move, then slipped her wand back up the sleeve of her robes. Malfoy looked like Christmas had come early.

"I knew it!" he said jubilantly. "I heard Goyle's trunk hit you!"

"And I saw his trainer after Zabini came back," Ashdown added quietly, a look of fear in her eyes that she was trying to suppress. Maybe she was afraid Harry had heard too much? "Draco, maybe I should-"

"He didn't hear anything I care about." Malfoy seemed to be considering his options. "But while he's here..." He stamped down hard on Harry's face. Harry felt his nose break; blood gushed everywhere and Ashdown cringed away. "That's from my father. Now, let's see..." He grabbed the Invisibility Cloak from under Harry and threw it over his immobilized form. "There. I don't reckon they'll find you until the train's back to London. See you around, Potter... Or not." And, taking care to tread on Harry's fingers, he took Ashdown firmly by the arm and led her out of the compartment, shutting the door behind him.

When the start of term feast ended and the students of Hogwarts were dismissed from the Great Hall, Harry, Ron, and Hermione hung to the back of the crowd to talk without being overheard. Harry explained why he had been covered in blood when he arrived to the Great Hall in one word: "Malfoy." His friends didn't seem surprised by this, but Harry's next question seemed to come out of nowhere. "What do you know about Zoe Ashdown?"

Ron shook his head, shrugging, but Hermione was able to answer. "Zoe Ashdown? She's in our year in Slytherin, I always see her in the library. She doesn't really talk much-actually, I'm not sure I've ever heard her speak. But she gets high marks in just about everything and doesn't seem to take much pleasure in laughing at us like the other Slytherins do." She shot Harry a questioning look. "Why do you ask?"

"She was in the compartment with Malfoy and the others. She's the one who noticed I was up in the luggage rack and put the body bind on me. Parkinson seems to hate her, but Malfoy got along with her just fine. Whatever Malfoy's planning on doing, whatever it was he was hinting at, she knows about it, because the second it sounded like he was going to say something big she shut him up."

Ron spoke the words Harry had been thinking. "No one close to Malfoy can be good news."

"Oh _really_, Ron." Hermione's voice sounded exasperated. "We don't know that. She's never sided with him before, she's always kept to herself. She may not have even wanted to be there, if Parkinson really does hate her!"

"Parkinson probably hates her because Malfoy doesn't. Doesn't want the competition."

They were nearing the end of the long Gryffindor table now, and Harry glanced over at the Slytherin table, where all but two students were filing towards the doors. Ashdown remained seated at the end of the table closest to the exit, looking into the throng of students and completely ignoring Malfoy, who stood next to her and seemed to be trying to tell her something. Harry nudged Ron and Hermione, directing their attention to the table as Malfoy seemed to ask a question that Ashdown didn't answer. He asked again, and, frustrated by her lack of response, he grabbed her arm to get her attention, asking the question once more. Ashdown jumped about a foot in the air before settling a glare at the boy, answering him shortly before wrenching her arm out of his grasp and stalking away from him.

Ashdown was inadvertently approaching the spot Harry, Ron, and Hermione were stuck in. The Slytherin girl, spotting this, came up short, hesitating as she found herself being approached by the three Gryffindors. She seemed to be considering going back to Malfoy, but the trio could see that the thought alone intimidated her. She took a deep breath, as though she was steadying her resolve, and spoke directly to Harry. "I was going to apologize about your nose." She looked over his robes, blood-free. "But it looks like I don't have to anymore." Her gaze flickered to Hermione. "Nice cleaning charm." After this, her resolve seemed to fail, though whether it was because she thought she'd said too much or because Malfoy was approaching, it wasn't clear. The Slytherin raised a hand in farewell and disappeared into the throng of students. Malfoy replaced her next to the trio, but he hardly took the time to throw them a dirty look before pushing further into the crowd, looking for the witch that seemed to have evaporated. The three friends shared a look before heading back to the common room, knowing they would have a lot to discuss that night.

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**There's the first chapter for you. Let me know what you think! Do you like Zoe? **

**Until next time!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello again, everyone! Thank you to the two of you that reviewed the last chapter, I appreciate hearing your thoughts, whether you like Zoe or not. To all of you joining me for the first time, welcome! I hope you enjoy!**

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Zoe Ashdown, upon arriving back in the dungeons, hid herself away in her dormitory, the dark green curtains drawn around her four-poster to avoid contact with any of the other girls, especially Pansy Parkinson. She passed the time until late at night when everyone was in bed by reading the first few chapters of her Potions and Charms textbooks and taking notes. She left when she was sure everyone was asleep, making as little noise as possible. She entered the common room with her book bag, intending on studying at least some Transfiguration and Defense in preparation for the first day of classes, knowing full well that she wouldn't be able to sleep until she had done so. She settled down in her favorite chair by the fire, carefully removing her quill and ink first from her bag.

"Studying already?"

_Thump._ Zoe's book bag slid off her lap as she jumped, startled. She turned to the source of the voice, the sofa behind her, where Draco Malfoy was lounging with a broad smirk on his face. She must have passed right by him, so sure in her thought that no one would be awake at this late hour that she didn't pay attention to her surroundings.

"Twitchy, aren't you?"

Zoe fixed him with a glare, not appreciative of his mocking tone. "Go away."

But he didn't. Instead, he sat up, a look of curiosity crossing his features. "Why were you talking to Potter and his friends?"

Zoe didn't answer him, opening her Transfiguration textbook and starting the first chapter. Malfoy, however, didn't like being ignored. He stood up, crossed to stand in front of Zoe, one hand on either arm of her chair, looming over her. "Why is it," he asked lowly, "that you're so determined to ignore me when I'm trying to help you?"

Zoe shrank back from the boy, looking very much as though she wanted to become part of the chair or else go right through it. Eyes still firmly on her book in a feeble attempt to continue reading, she muttered something that sounded like "Don't need your help."

"Don't need my help?" Malfoy repeated, looking incredulous. "How do you think you're going to- _Pay attention!_" He roughly grabbed her book out of her hands, shutting it and tossing it onto the floor. "Do you really think you'll survive the year without help?" Zoe flinched back from his words. "You may get top marks in class, but out there it's different." His voice was venomous. "Out there, it doesn't matter how many books you've read or how many O.W.L.s you've got, what matters is how well you take orders and do the jobs you're assigned. Out there, it doesn't matter if you've got the theory behind a curse memorized, it matters how well you use it. Theory means nothing anymore, and unless you accept that now you're probably going to get yourself killed."

Zoe's dark green eyes watered for a moment, but no tears fell. Malfoy relaxed, standing up straighter to give her more room, seeming to be afraid that he was going to make her cry and having no desire to see that. Far from it, however, she managed a whisper. "It hasn't happened yet."

Malfoy was incredulous; obviously, he hadn't expected that piece of information. "It hasn't?" he repeated. "Show me.

"I don't think that's such a-"

"Show me!"

Zoe winced, but did as he said. She rolled up the fabric of her left sleeve, revealing-nothing that Malfoy expected. She was bruised, five round prints on her forearm outlining a human's strong grip, but besides that her skin was relatively unblemished. Malfoy did his best to ignore the dark splotches on her arm, instead meeting her gaze. "When will it happen?"

She was relieved that he ignored the bruises. "It'll happen when he wants it to. The Dark Lord isn't known for letting people in on his timeline." At Malfoy's still questioning look, she added: "But it seems like it'll be before the end of next month."

Malfoy nodded, satisfied. After a pause, he spoke again. "Where did these come from?" He gestured to the marks on her arm.

Zoe's expression turned sour, and she moved to roll her sleeve back down. "It doesn't matter," she told him dismissively. "It'll go away in a week or so. No harm done."

But Malfoy reached out to stop her, noticing the definite flinch that ran through her even though she tried to hide it. "Don't. Tell you what, I'll bring down some stuff I've got that'll get rid of it in a minute if you'll tell me where it came from." At her continuing look of distrust, he added: "And I'll keep it to myself. Deal?"

Zoe considered the offer for a few moments more before nodding. "Fine, deal." She waited while Malfoy went up to get the salve, her fingers tapping on the arms of the chair nervously as she did. Luckily, he was back soon, salve in hand.

"Right, you tell me what happened and I'll hand this over."

Zoe eyed the small container. "Would you believe me if I told you it was an accident?"

He shook his head. "I'm not dense, that's obviously a hand." He sat in the chair opposite her, careful to keep the salve out of her reach. "Who was it?"

She considered making up a lie, but nothing she could think of would be even remotely convincing to the boy across from her. "My father," she said finally. "I kept getting in his way this morning."

Malfoy didn't say anything; he simply handed over the little container of salve, which Zoe took and smeared thinly on her bruises.

"You need to tell me when it happens," Malfoy said finally, breaking the silence that had fallen over them. Zoe looked up in confusion, thinking he was speaking of her father, who wouldn't again see her until the Christmas holidays. It was only when he spoke again, most likely to clear any confusion, that she got it. "Understand? As soon as you know when it's going to be, find me and let me know."

"Why?"

"Why? Because I know what it's like. You're going to need someone to help you back."

Zoe pondered this for a moment before speaking again, her voice hardly above a whisper. "How bad is it?" But Malfoy didn't answer, his silence giving her all the answer she needed. Instead, he pointed to her arm. "Look. It's like nothing happened."

Zoe looked down at her arm, relieved to see that her bruises had indeed faded. "Thanks." She rolled her sleeve back down and offered the salve back to him, but he wouldn't take it.

"You keep it." He had sneaking suspicion that she needed it more than he did. She smiled in thanks, sliding the container into her bag. Her eyes came to rest on the fallen Transfiguration textbook and her hand jerked in its direction, fingers itching to pick it up. Malfoy spotted this; he picked it up himself, handing it back to her after dusting it off. "Here you go." He stood to leave. "I'll see you tomorrow. Have fun studying." The last was said in a mocking tone, poking fun at her study habits.

Zoe gave him a real smile at this, waving as she turned to leave and becoming engrossed in the pages before he'd gone further than twenty steps away.

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As term went on, Zoe was almost able to forget that she was waiting for word from the Dark Lord, caught up as she was in her studies. She was keeping herself busy, from early in the morning, when she rose to get to the library before breakfast, to late at night, when she was by far the last student in the common room, she could often be seen with her nose in a book. Whether she was studying for reading for her own enjoyment, she was hardly fully in the present, nearly always distracted somehow. She was doing everything she could to keep her mind occupied, because when she had a moment to herself, her thoughts nearly always turned to the night she was dreading: the night she would finally have the Dark Mark burned into her skin.

September had passed, as had most of October. Zoe was sitting at breakfast with her Potions textbook propped up against the milk jug, ignoring the chatter of students around her and their speculations on the rumors surrounding this year's Halloween Feast, which was only a few days away. As usual, the chatter paused as owls swooped into the Great Hall, students looking up for their owls, hoping to hear from their families. Zoe ignored this; she never received mail, today should be no different. Only it was. For the first time, a tawny owl landed neatly in front of her, an envelope tied to its leg. At first, Zoe didn't process that the letter was for her, she untied the envelope and fed the bird a piece of bacon, looking to see who the letter was supposed to be delivered to. The owl had made no mistake, however: it was clearly addressed to her. Surprised, Zoe slit open the envelope, unfolding the parchment inside and reading the short, bold writing:

_Tonight, 10 o'clock, Shrieking Shack._

_Come alone._

Zoe looked down at her letter, if it could be called that, the blood leaving her face so fast she thought she would faint. Distantly, she heard someone speaking to her, but she couldn't be sure what they were saying. A strong hand took her by the arm, pulling her to her feet and leading her out of the Great Hall. She stumbled, unsteady on her feet, the note clenched tightly in her hand. They went down, away from the babble of the Great Hall and into the cooler, darker dungeons. A voice next to her spoke as they approached a blank section of wall, which slid open and allowed them access to the room beyond.

Zoe was steered to a sofa and lowered into it. As she sank down, a voice floated to her as though from far away. "Stay here." The person left, and Zoe didn't move. She couldn't, even if she wanted to. If she just sat there, maybe she wouldn't be branded. Maybe she would never bear the Mark of the most evil wizard in the world. Tears pricked her eyes, though she tried to blink them back. She wasn't a soldier. She wasn't one for action. She was a theorist, a strategist, a researcher. She would be less than useless on the front lines. Maybe that was why-

Something was thrust into her hand, and she jumped, startled, nearly dropping it. "Drink." Zoe did as she was told, the smell of the drink reaching her half a second before the taste did. She coughed as the Firewhiskey burned her throat. The common room snapped into focus around her, and she became painfully aware of her fingernails digging into her palm, tearing the parchment in her hand. As she concentrated on loosening the muscles in her fingers, wincing as she viewed the little half-moon marks in her palm, a hand reached across her and plucked the parchment from her. Zoe's eyes followed it back to its owner, who read the note without a change in expression. "Thought that's what it was."

Malfoy sighed finally. "Keep drinking that, you'll stop shaking in a moment." Once again, Zoe was startled; she hadn't realized how much she was trembling. "Someone will meet you at the Shrieking Shack," he explained. "They'll bring you to him by Side-Along-Apparition. You'll be able to Apparate back, right?"

Zoe nodded. "I don't have my license, though."

That doesn't matter as long as you can get yourself back in one piece. When you get back, I'll be waiting downstairs in the Shrieking Shack and I'll help you back to your dorm. Tomorrow you aren't going to class." The tone he used didn't allow protest. "I'll put it out that you aren't feeling well and collect your homework. Don't leave your dorm for anything. I'll make sure you get meals; make sure you eat them. You may not have much of an appetite, but you'll need your strength if you want to get better.

"The day after tomorrow is Halloween. Whether you want to or not, you need to go up for the Feast. It'll look suspicious if you go to class but not the Feast, people will ask questions and you want to stay as low as possible from now on. Do you understand?"

Zoe nodded, feeling the panic that had been threatening to overcome her subside at the prospect of a plan. She repeated it back, the organization and certainty calming her. Draco nodded once, taking her empty glass of Firewhiskey from her and picking her up by the elbow and giving her a little push towards the door. "You need to get to class. Concentrate on your lessons and you'll be fine. I'll see you later."

"You don't have class?"

The blonde smirked at her. "The only other person in this castle taking as many classes as you, Ashdown, is that Granger. I've got a free period, ever heard of one?"

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**And that's it! I hope you enjoyed, please let me know what you think, good or otherwise, in a review! I do hope to update more often, but I don't want to make any promises for fear I might break them. **

**Have a wonderful day!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey, guys! I want to apologize for taking to long to get this up, but I've been very busy. I'm sure you can relate. Enjoy!**

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"I'm telling you, it was weird." After breakfast, Harry and Ron had returned to the common room in the hopes of finishing a particularly nasty essay for Snape. The essay was due later that day, and neither of them had made much real headway. Harry had just relayed the strange occurrence he'd witnessed at the Slytherin table to a preoccupied Ron, who was much more concerned with the fact that he couldn't seem to spell anything right than with Harry's story.

"I dunno, mate..." He spoke slowly, much more concentrated on finding his spelling errors than Harry's "underage Death Eaters" theory. "There's a lot of other things that could have made them do that."

Harry was sure, though, that he was right. Ashdown was about to become a Death Eater, it made perfect sense in his mind. The moment they saw Hermione on their way to Charms, he explained what he'd seen.

"But it could have easily been something else, right?" Ron interjected before Hermione could so much as open her mouth.

"Well-yes, actually, that's what I was going to say. Harry, there have been so many attacks lately, something could have happened in her family." Harry looked like he had every intention of interrupting, so she cut him off before he had the chance. "She's sixteen, Harry, do you really think You-Know-Who would take on an unqualified witch? She may not even agree with all the pureblood mania; none of us know because she's never said a thing either way."

"Of course she wouldn't," Harry countered, "Not if she wanted to stay on everyone's good side."

"Good side? Harry, she doesn't talk to anyone, ever. You know," Her expression shifted from annoyance to thoughtfulness, reflected in her tone. "I couldn't tell you whether she has any friends here nor not. I never thought about it before, actually..."

Harry and Ron recognized the look on her face; it was very similar to the one she'd had right before starting the whole S.P.E.W. business. "Hermione, don't."

"We know what you're thinking. It's not worth it."

"And why not? She must be really lonely, I've never seen her with anyone."

"I told you, she's friends with Malfoy. She's fine."

"You also said it looked like she didn't want to be there."

"That's because Pansy Parkinson was giving her a hard time for existing!"

"You two do what you like, I'm going to try and talk to her." And with that, she turned her back on the boys and entered the classroom. They shared a look at the classroom door, simultaneously bemused and confused.

"She's mental," Ron stated. Harry nodded in agreement, and that seemed to settle the matter.

* * *

At nine-thirty that night, Zoe met Malfoy in the common room. The boy had come prepared to deal with her nerves; he handed her a silver flask straightaway with the simple command to drink. Zoe didn't question him, and when she lifted it to her lips she discovered it was more of the Firewhiskey she'd had that morning. She didnt drink much, but the little fire that was now in her stomach helped take the edge off her fear and a few steps back from the edge of panic.

Together, the two students left the common room, cautious as they made their way to the entrance hall. One wrong step into the path of a teacher on nightly patrol would be the end of the night, and certainly wouldn't bode well for them later. Luck was on their side that night, however; they made it outside without incident. Zoe didn't know where to go from there, surely they weren't walking to Hogsmeade? Malfoy, however, was taking her to the Whomping Willow.

"It's a secret passageway," he explained, "There's a tunnel under the roots that lead straight into the Shrieking Shack." Zoe's ears started to fill with panic again, and Malfoy grabbed her shoulders to bring her back to the present. "Listen, while you're there, speak as little as possible, it should be easy for you. When you're presented to him, bow and address him as 'My Lord.' Do not forget to address him as such. He may ask you to do something to prove your loyalty: whatever it is, do it without hesitation. Do whatever you must to prove your loyalty; if you don't, he'll kill you.

"After this he'll brand you. I'll tell you now: it's going to hurt, but you mustn't make any sound of discomfort. He trusts less those who cry out than those who take the pain in silence. When it's over, you must thank him. He must think you're grateful to have been given the Dark Mark. He may speak for a few moments, but then he'll let you leave. You won't be able to Disapparate directly from where you've been taken, so make sure to leave the protective boundary first or you'll look like a fool. Come straight back to the Shrieking Shack, I'll be waiting inside for you. Together we'll go back to the common room and I'll help you start treating the Mark so it heals quickly. Do you understand?"

Zoe nodded once. He'd asked her to memorize information, that was what she was good at.

"Good. Now, I'll let you into the tunnel. There's only the one way in and out, there aren't any other passages. Go quickly so you're there early, there may already be someone waiting." Malfoy tried to give her an encouraging smile, but it expressed itself as a kind of grimace. He stopped trying and gave her a steeling look instead. "Ready?"

Zoe wanted to say no, to run back to her dormitory and her schoolbooks and homework and pretend it was all a bad dream, but she knew better. There was no turning back, not if she wanted to live. She nodded once, afraid that if she tried to speak she would fall to pieces right there. Malfoy nodded in return and turned to face the Whomping Willow. As the branches began to sway about in an attempt to knock the daylights out of anyone approaching, he levitated a fallen stick, maneuvered it over to a knot in the roots, and let it fall. Instantly, the tree was frozen. He turned to Zoe, a few steps behind him, and beckoned her forward. "In there." He pointed to a gap in the roots, and she darted forward without a word, disappearing a moment later.

* * *

Malfoy was dozing in a dusty, ripped-up armchair in what he assumed was once the sitting room of the Shrieking Shack, waiting for Zoe to return. It wasn't a particularly comfortable place to wait, what with the stuffing poking out of the shredded upholstery and the occasional stab from a freed spring, but it was the most intact piece of furniture, so it would have to do. Nearly ninety minutes had passed since Zoe had darted into the tunnel, and with every minute more the likelihood of her return grew dimmer and dimmer. But Malfoy would not leave. He had resolved to stay all night, if that was what it took, because he knew that he had to be there when Zoe returned if for no reason but to make sure she wasn't caught on her way back into the castle. He was trying to stay awake, but it was proving harder than he'd thought it would be. His heavy eyes shut of their own accord and his pointed chin dropped to his chest, only to be jerked up again in an attempt to stay awake. This lasted less than a minute before his eyes shut again and his chin dropped...

_CRACK!_

Malfoy jumped up at the sound of someone Apparating, his wand in his hand. The sound of footsteps, followed by a thump came from upstairs. Slowly, he climbed the staircase, wand at the ready. Choked sobbing coming from an old bedroom, and cautiously Malfoy approached the door, peering around it. He was greeted with the sight of a person huddled on the floor, trembling and crying, a mess of dark hair covering her face. She was cradling her left arm to her body, the sleeve of her rumpled and dirtied sleeve pushed back. Malfoy took a cautious step into the room, quietly calling to the familiar figure. "Zoe?"

The girl's head jerked up at his voice, fingers blindly fumbling for her wand. She abandoned the pursuit when her eyes came to rest on Malfoy, trying to focus on him. "D-Draco?" She whispered as he approached her and kneeled beside her. Far from being relieved, when she realized it was him her momentarily dry eyes teared up again, and she hid her face behind her free hand, breaking down into helpless sobs once more.

Malfoy watched her for a moment, bewildered. He had never been good at dealing with crying people, in the past he'd just walked away to let them sort themselves out. He knew he couldn't do that here, however. What had happened when he'd gotten his Mark? His mother had greeted him and... He looked down at Zoe before carefully wrapping his arms around her, pulling her to him. The girl tensed at the contact, but before he could wonder whether he should let go or not she relaxed again. It was only a minute or two, though it seemed like ages to the two teens, that they remained like that on the dirty floor of the Shrieking Shack before Zoe calmed down and pulled away. "S-Sorry..," she apologized, wiping her eyes. "I don't usually-"

"It's alright," Malfoy cut her off. Normally he would be annoyed, but under the present circumstances he felt that an exception could be made. "How did it go?"

"I did what you told me."

"And?"

"And I think I pulled it off." She looked very much like she never wanted to think about it again. "Can we go, please? I don't want to talk about it right now."

Malfoy nodded and helped her up. He took her by her left wrist and gently prised her arm away from her body, cringing at the sight of the bloody and inflamed borders of the Dark Mark. "I'm going to pull your sleeve down. It's going to hurt, but it needs to be covered up in case we run into someone. If we do, let me do the talking and don't favor your left arm. Pretend it's normal."

Zoe nodded, biting her lip hard as the fabric of her sleeve rubbed against her wounded skin. Malfoy considered her pale and shaking form for a moment before he put his arm around her shoulders to steady her in case she fainted, which looked rathr likely. He led her out of the broken-down shack and back into the cool night air, careful to bend low in the tunnel to avoid hitting their heads. As they emerged from the tunnel and made their way across the grounds, Zoe crossed her arms in front of herself for warmth, careful to avoid irritating her arm. The walk to the castle was quiet; Zoe kept her head down and Malfoy was hyper-alert to every sound, keen on avoiding teachers at all costs. It was by luck that they were able to enter the castle without detection. There was a moment in the entrance hall when Malfoy thought he saw something move, but nothing presented itself in the silent hall. It was with great relief that the teens made it back to the common room without incident.

Malfoy left Zoe in the sofa and left to get treatment for her brand and some Firewhiskey for both their nerves. He would have to smuggle some more into the castle soon; he could tell now that it was going to be vital in making it through the year.

* * *

At Harry's insistence, he and Ron had gone down to the entrance hall after curfew, sure that Ashdown or Malfoy would try to leave the castle that night. Ron was all for staying in Gryffindor Tower where it was warm and comfortable, but Harry said he would go by himself if he had to and Ron wanted to keep him from doing anything stupid. Mhen they saw Malfoy and Ashdown leave together, Harry wanted to follow them, but Ron barely managed to convince him that they would have a difficult time remaining undetected outside. And anyway, they had to come back sometime, right? However, when nearly two hours had passed with no return trip, Ron was ready to go back to bed. He'd just opened his mouth when Harry elbowed him, pointing to the front door where Ashdown and Malfoy were returning.

His look of triumph quickly turned into a confused frown, however, when he saw their faces. Something wasn't right. Malfoy was looking too alert, his eyes nearly catching the bit of Harry and Ron's temporarily exposed feet as they crouched down again. Malfoy had his arm around Ashdown, who quite frankly looked terrible. Her head was lowered in a defeated sort of way, her arms were crossed protectively in front of her, her clothes were dirty and wrinkled...and were those tear tracks on her cheeks? The two Gryffindors followed them down to the dungeons, but neither Slytherin said a word the entire way there. Harry and Ron shared an incredulous look as they turned to head back to Gryffindor Tower, neither feeling brave enough to follow Malfoy and Ashdown into their common room. The boys were silent, not daring to say a word until they reached the Gryffindor common room.

As Harry pulled the Invisibility Cloak off of them, Ron asked the question that had been on both of their minds: "What the bloody hell was that?"

* * *

**How was it? I'm aware it's a tad short, but I felt like that was a good place to stop. I won't make any promises, but I really hope to have the next chapter up sooner, I dislike posting gaps as much as you do. Please let me know what you think in a review, and have a good day!**


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